


Make The Devil Cry

by cledritch



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Shots, Crack Treated Seriously, Dancer Winwin, Frottage, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild S&M, Not Beta Read, Oh Sehun is a Little Shit, Shotgunning, Smoking, Smut, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 21:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cledritch/pseuds/cledritch
Summary: Just one look from me, lights outWatch them hit the ground





	Make The Devil Cry

**Author's Note:**

> click away before it's too late. title and summary from bad boy (english) by red velvet because i was listening to it while writing.

The adrenaline buzzes in his bloodstream, addicting and familiar that he has to stop throwing his head back in euphoria after he finishes his set. He’s panting, not from exhaustion. His experience in the stage went from dancing his traditional Chinese dance as a teenager and to the showcases his dance minor demanded from him that the spotlight doesn’t faze him anymore.  A doctorate degree in the works is his dream job but dance just exhilarates him to a different kind of high.

Not that his parents would ever know what he does in Korea away from their conservative eyes.

His flowy white smock clings to his back from the sweat, billowy sleeves pushed back to his elbows as he bends down to crawl on his fours over the platform before standing back up, making sure to trail his fingers up his thighs and struts down the walkway. He smirks, sending the crowd hooting. There are spots on his vision from staring at the strobe lights too much when he did a triple jump spin and it’s the least of his worries. He makes sure to sway his hips, his tight leather jeans that was comfortable enough to give him free movement and framed his legs rather nicely. He licks his lips out of instinct, traces of his lip balm long gone because he needed to bite his lip to emphasize a movement in his dancing.

He throws a kiss with two fingers, staring at the blurry figures of men and women giving tips to the waiters. They don’t throw money here. It’s a classy joint mostly because the owner complained about paper bills stuck on the toilets and he’d rather not pay extra for that. Stingy, really. He giggles when he hears someone yell what his mouth could do but he turns his body, pushing back his hair away from his eyes that and caught movement at his peripheral vision.

There’s a tall handsome man who’s sitting in one of the booths that’s directly next to the stage, stem of an empty wine glass between his fingers. His eyes are trained at him, interest brimming in dark orbs with lips slicked under the lights when Sicheng meets his gaze.

A surge of want crawls down his spine and he quirks the corner of his lip before he disappeared into the backstage while the next song rolls and another dancer takes his place.

 

Sicheng isn’t fazed when he’s sitting in the lounge room with a glass of whiskey and Taeil comes in unannounced to tell him he’s called for a private room.

“I’m not a stripper.” Is what he says, eyebrow quirked haughtily and shrugging off his smock. The tank top he wore underneath is all drenched in sweat so he decides to take it off too, pulling it over his head and throwing it into his bag without an ounce of care that Taeil is ogling his exposed chest. It’s not like he hasn’t seen it before but the elder always was in awe of how his back muscles contracted when he moves.

Still, work came first to him. “Now, now. Play nice.” He starts then blowing a puff of hair when Sicheng makes a mocking puppet gesture with his hand “I can always tell him to leave. Though this game of yours is really getting old but oh well- Are you listening?” Taeil’s words are fuzzy in Sicheng’s head but it’s just because the latter is too amused with how Taeil can talk like that when his eyes are trailing down Sicheng’s stomach.

Sicheng chuckles “Can you be less obvious?” he calls out, finding his leather jacket and putting it on, zipping it up while Taeil pouts at the covered skin. “They know the policy. No one’s that dumb here to try to test their luck.”

Taeil breaks his concentrated stare, flushing and clears his throat “It was the wine guy.”

Sicheng cocks his head, eyes widening a fraction and feigns ignorance when he whispers “Did he now?”

“And you tell yourself you’re not a stripper with that eager look on your face.” Taeil grumbles but he guides Sicheng to the rooms where they usually give clients more one-on-one time to converse with their dancers. Private shows depend on the need but it’s really just job interviews for the most part unless there is consent between them to actually make it much more interesting.

It’s a special service and Sicheng’s pretty adamant in rejecting any offer that came his way. Not even for some rich chaebol who wanted to see what his mouth could do or an idol who was interested in Sicheng’s innocent act could sway him to actually meeting them. So when Taeil catches him fixing his hair by mussing it with his fingers, applying some lip balm with precision, Taeil pipes up a “Just your type.”

Sicheng winks at him, tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth before he goes inside the room they lovingly called the Therapy room. They called it that because it’s the only room that has an open balcony for smoking and gave a brilliant view of the harbor and the city lights. Sicheng hums to himself when he spots him, hand on the balcony with his back to Sicheng as a haze of smoke surrounded him.

He closes the door quietly, slinking behind the man without a sound and Sicheng watches him blow a long stream of smoke before turning around, end of the stick between his teeth.

Sicheng’s surprised he has freckles dotted across his nose without any makeup to cover them. He must’ve left his work in a hurry to care about covering them up. The man notices his stare and scoffs, pulling him closer by his belt hoop. There’s the whiff of his cologne that Sicheng takes pleasure in, oak ashes he’s gotten so familiar with.

“Did you come here immediately after brewing the last batch?” he teases, winding his arms around his neck. He scrunches his nose at the smell of the cigarette, plucking it out of his mouth and dangling it between his fingers “Ah, ah, ah. No smoking. Don’t you miss me, Sehun?”

Sehun doesn’t hide his disbelief, rolling his eyes as he sprawls a hand on Sicheng’s hip “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Flattery gets me everywhere, if you’ve forgotten.” Sicheng sighs, eyeing the cigarette he held between them “How do you stand this?” It’s a trick question, judging from the twinkle in Sehun’s eyes that only spelled trouble.

There’s a slow flutter of his lashes when he blinks innocently, fingers wrapping feather-light around Sicheng’s dainty wrist and angling his hand so that he can wrap his lips around the end of the cigarette again. Sicheng’s eye twitched when Sehun didn’t break their gazes, taking a slow drag with a soft sound. He separates from it only to use lean closer to Sicheng, nuzzling his nose against his and jutting his chin so that their lips brushed. There’s little space in between, Sicheng parting his lips just as Sehun blows smoke into his mouth. There’s smoke that escapes because Sicheng doesn’t inhale it fast enough, the corner of his eyes stinging at the suddenness. There’s no warning as Sehun surges forward to connect their lips, the taste of nicotine chased away when Sehun maps the inside of his mouth with his tongue. The cigarette is thrown over the balcony as Sicheng winds his hands on Sehun’s hair.

The hand on his hip travels to his lower back, pushing him so that their chests were flushed against one another. Sehun kisses him deeper, sucking on his lower lip periodically.

There’s a buzz of thoughts in Sicheng’s mind. Sehun doesn’t frequent clubs for the alcohol. He’s always been picky with what he puts in his mouth especially alcohol. It could be the pretentious streak his line of work bestowed him but Sehun always tastes like wine even when it’s been a long while since he’d drank any. Hints of oaked Chardonnay, his favorite, mingle with the taste of smoke. Sweet and rich just like how Sehun carries himself every day.

Sicheng moans as he tugs at Sehun’s hair harshly, lips moving against each other frantically. Sehun bites down the younger’s lower lip and then parting away to take a breath. Sicheng chases after his mouth, sucking on his jaw because he was overeager and trailed down to suck at Sehun’s pulse. His jacket gets unzipped, wandering hands caressing his feverish skin. Sicheng’s mouth latches on the spot behind Sehun’s ear, sucking a bruise as he unbuttons the red silk shirt that’s been taunting him since he came inside the room. Sehun never wears it without the intent of teasing him.

He slides a thigh between Sehun’s legs, parting them as he pushes him until the older man’s back is flushed against the metal railings. There’s soft groan that escapes Sehun’s lips when Sicheng continues sucking marks down his neck, nibbling on his collarbone and licks a path as he reconnects their lips.

Sehun chuckles against the kiss, thumb tucking into Sicheng’s waistband with a nail scraping at his hipbone and tracing slow circles before tilting his head to give Sicheng more access. “You’re demanding today.” The bite right on his pulse, already throbbing with pain from the earlier bruise only reignited pleasure in his veins. Sehun murmurs something along the lines of leaving no marks but it’s buried in Sicheng’s sharp cry when the elder tugs on fistfuls of his hair hard. Their kiss turns sloppy, teeth clashing and there’s a harder pull as Sicheng traces his tongue against the spot where Sicheng’s shoulder met his neck.

Sicheng whines, moving away to avoid his lips and wraps a hand around his neck to stop him from moving. There’s a flush of pink on Sehun’s face, making his freckles stand out and his lips are slicked with spit that Sicheng can’t help sneaking a quick kiss. He let his other hand wander lower, brushing against a nipple that’s become hard from the cold then to the flat plane of his stomach and finally grasping his belt to unbuckle it. He leave sit hanging by the belt buckles, unbuttoning the jeans with one hand and tightens his hand around Sehun’s neck “Please. You’re the one who decided to leave me alone this morning for some fermented grapes.” He hisses, rubbing his knee on Sehun’s crotch as the latter grinds down to match the movement.

Sehun freezes, eyebrows furrowing as he registered what Sicheng just said and his face darkens. There’s no warning when he pushes forward, ripping off Sicheng’s hand on his neck and holding both of his wrists. Sicheng yelps at the suddenness, not realizing where he’s being led to until he falls with a soft thump on the bed. Sehun winds his hands over his head, holding both wrists with one hand and tugging his belt off to wrap it around Sicheng’s wrists, securely tying it and slinging it over a conveniently placed hook that fit right into the holes of the belt. It was Gucci but Sehun cared less about it when his pride is at stake. Sicheng doesn’t fight the bonds, curious on what Sehun is planning.

“You’re really pushing a lot of buttons today.”

Sicheng smirks, noting how Sehun kept him down by straddling him with his ass on his stomach. “Oh, please. As if you don’t do the same thing.” He crosses his legs, deciding to be comfortable. Sehun cradles Sicheng’s jaw with both hands, rubbing his thumbs against the soft flesh of his cheek, rubbing his thumbs against the soft flesh of his cheek before he presses a lingering kiss and then retreats. Sicheng pouts, the weight on his stomach gone as Sehun stands up to get something. He cranes his head, trying to see where he is going. There’s a heat in his belly when Sehun leans over, ass perfectly accented by his slacks and Sicheng would be a little jealous if he didn’t like kneading it between his hands when he gets a chance. But when he comes back, a bottle in hand that’s already opened, Sicheng suddenly is scared. It’s red wine, the label getting clearer as Sehun moves closer. Chateau Petrus Pomerol. It’s already opened, the sloshing of the liquid inside indicated that it’s a fresh bottle and Sicheng has no idea why Sehun would choose that wine when he recalled that it was worth over five million won. He had made Sicheng have a sip a month ago and when he asked for a second taste, Sehun didn’t let him. Something about not being worthy to be in Sicheng’s mouth and it ended with blowjobs to prove him wrong but it still didn’t give him a taste of that wine.

Sehun doesn’t say anything as he straddles Sicheng again, wine bottle held by the neck which was out of character and maybe he regrets it riling him a little. Sehun uses one hand to tug Sicheng’s leather jacket up until it becomes tangled up his arms when it reached his wrists. He leaves it bundled there and Sicheng feels more restrained, the cold air brushing against his nipples making him shiver. The anticipation of what he’s going to do eat away at Sicheng’s mind.

He gets his answer with a yelp as Sehun tips the bottle and pours wine all over Sicheng’s chest. It’s cold enough to make Sicheng jolt, body arching as a reflex and there’s a mouth around his nipple, sucking on the nub and biting down before pulling away as Sehun released it between his teeth. Sicheng can smell blackberries, the acidic sweetness filing his nose that he feels his mouth water. Sehun sets the bottle on the nightstand and hums, tongue laving on his clavicle to lick at the droplets without a care in the world “Perfect.” He whispers around the other nipple, nibbling around it “Full-bodied. BDX variety and chewy but you don’t understand any of this, do you?” his voice is sending vibrations over the sensitive nub and Sicheng whines low in his throat, unable to reply.

Sehun tugs at Sicheng’s pants, peeling it off his legs and throwing it somewhere in the room before he drags mouths at the waistband of Sicheng’s briefs where wine has stained and Sicheng wants to pull his head closer to where his hard dick was. He twists his hips to try to do just that but Sehun anchored him down with his hands on his sides.

 “If you can’t enjoy wine like I do, why should I give you any satisfaction?”

Sicheng wants to laugh at how he shivers at the dark tone in Sehun’s voice but he almost bit his tongue when Sehun palms him through the cloth all the while pulling his pants down with his underwear to expose his own cock, hard and dripping precum. He doesn’t even pull them off, just lets them bunch around his ankles as he reaches overto grab the wine bottle again.

Sicheng gasps “Don’t you fucking dare-“ His briefs follow the pants to the ground and his dick is exposed. There is nothing that could prepare him for something cold crashing down on it.

There’s more wine spilled on his crotch, his dick twitching at the sensation and he would have lost his arousal if Sehun didn’t align their cocks against each other, grinding to just rub skin to skin. After he returns the bottle to where it was before, Sehun takes hold of Sicheng’s cock first, slow pumps that got Sicheng leaning on Sehun’s shoulder to muffle his noises. He’s not by any means loud but he’d rather save himself the embarrassment when Taeil makes rounds through the halls. Bastard would probably record it for blackmail.

His thoughts are interrupted when Sehun’s palm encased both their shafts, the easy slide from the wine mingling with the precum. Sicheng bites into the skin of Sehun’s shoulder when his fingers caress the head of his cock. It starts languid, wine drying on Sicheng’s skin and Sehun leans over to connect his mouth with his, quick, close-lipped and pulling away to tug at the top of his right ear where it was pointed.

Sicheng jerks his hips to fuck into the circle of Sehun’s hand, the tight fit with another cock only giving Sicheng the much needed friction and Sehun lets him, capturing his lips to tangle their tongues in time to the movement of his wrist. Sicheng breaks away a few times to gain his breath, Sehun pulling at his lower lip and pinching his nipple.

Sicheng cums with only a gasp, back arching off the best and his nails digging into his palm when he clenches his hands. The coil that was wound up unravels, painting his stomach white and splattering on Sehun’s hand. Sehun’s jerking doesn’t stop as Sicheng rode out his orgasm and even when he was done, so sensitive that he curls his toes and bites down his lower lip at the sharp surge of pain and pleasure.

“Ah, wait-“ his voice is high-pitched, startling him that he doesn’t manage to finish his protest because his vision is blurry and Sehun is frantically placing open-mouthed kisses against Sicheng’s neck, his long groan vibrating against Sicheng’s pulse when he cums too. Sehun smells of wine and sweat, a rather strange combination that Sicheng’s so used to that he smiles lopsidedly. Sehun pulls back, panting and his hair is plastered to his forehead. He raises his cum-stained hand, dragging it up to catch some of the wine and lets Sicheng suck on them, teeth scraping at his knuckles as he licks the liquid and tasting himself.

Sicheng withdraws with a lewd sound, licking his lips and sighing “You’re right. There is nothing like fine wine aged just right.”

“You’re not talking about the Bordeaux so cut it out. You’re disgusting.” Sehun says without any bite, smile bright and his eyes sleepy. The sheets are soaked in red, looking like a murder scene but Sicheng could care less. He wraps his arms around Sehun’s neck, slanting their lips to kiss him slowly, lips just pressed against each other’s.

“You want more of me anyways.”

**Author's Note:**

> my next one i post is pure and wholesome i swear


End file.
